


Turning

by shakespearespaz



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, F/M, Love Triangles, One Shot, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakespearespaz/pseuds/shakespearespaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season one deleted scene extended and from multiple viewpoints.  Miles visits Rachel and Ben with a proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning

Rachel listened to the faint murmur of his low voice through the floorboards, punctuated occasionally by two high pitched voices.

It was almost becoming a routine: an argument would build between her and Ben, one would passive aggressively retreat to prepare the kids for bed, while the other fumed downstairs. Tonight had been her turn, and what frustrated her was that they could blow up at each other at even the smallest of things.

It had been about the candles that night, and how stupidly dangerous and inefficient she thought simply laying them around their pine house was. Rachel had been thinking all day about a better solution, about designs for candelabras or if there was a better way to fire proof the house than just keeping a bucket of water ready.  She’d mentioned it in what she thought was a casual way, sketching some ideas onto a page in her journal for him—Rachel always found it easier to communicate her ideas through visuals.

Ben was tired, which she should have seen, but they all were tired all the time now. He’d called her fears pointless and excessive, she’d pressed forward and when he resisted again, she implied that he was short-sighted and stupid.

Ben’s face had softened, eyes wide and hurt—and she couldn’t help but see his brother in them, sympathetic Matheson eyes that neither of her children had. He’d then left her, climbing upstairs silently to go check under the bed for monsters and spin tales of lives more dramatic than theirs in the small cabin.

Rachel shook her head to disperse the image, focusing on rearranging the candles. 

Ben descending the stairs and the knock at the door almost overlapped. Fear was first. It was too late for any of their neighbors to be able to visit and who else was out there but those who would harm them?

She was greeted by thin smile, one that found his eyes. Recognition was instantaneous, but it took longer for reality to sink in.

Miles wasn’t the last person she expected to see; in fact she thought that he might seek them out.

This wasn’t the Miles she knew, though. He was sharp and composed, his face stern. Unlike the few times she’d seen him in his dress uniform, where he looked impressive but always a bit stiff, Miles looked comfortable as an officer. It unnerved her.

She would have preferred him and Bass intoxicated, with slurred speech and wandering hands and vomit.  All the greeted her was a cold stare, his eyes locked on her.

“Rachel.”

She kept silent, although the question pounded through her head with her heart. Why was he here?

Ben didn’t even try to hide his nervous swallow and Rachel’s curiosity was more potent than her fear. Besides, Miles wouldn’t hurt his family, would he? She was still grasping at the concept that this was not Miles.  Or maybe it was Miles with certain pieces amplified—the tactical brain, the commanding presence, the possessiveness—and other pieces gone—the reluctant smile or self-deprecating humor.

“Miles.”

His greased hair looked awful, she decided, and the judgment gave her an ounce more confidence, especially as his gaze danced over her. Once, he would have hardly made eye contact with Ben standing beside them, a fact that had made his appreciative gazes when they were alone more exquisite. His childlike wonder of her during the affair, from tugged curls to the soft pads of his fingers tracing her skin, had once filled her with the warm, bubbly feeling of content love, simply from his capacity to adore.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

That sounded like him. Something to make light of how grave they all were acting, and she pinned her heart to the hope that the cruel sight before her was only a façade. Maybe she could shatter it, and although she would die for her children and stayed with Ben for partnership, it wasn’t her husband that she wanted curled next to her in the night.

Rachel imagined herself wrapped around Miles, their vulnerable souls finally safe.

She could not reconcile that dream with the man before her.

\--

They answered the knock far quicker than Miles expected.

The moment snuck up too quickly, and he left his gently wringing hands where they were as the door swung open. He had conquered a quarter of the country, his men waited past the curve in the road if he encountered any resistance, and Rachel and his brother were scientists not warriors, but anticipation still had a powerful effect on any man.

And then she was there, jaw slack in surprise and blue eyes almost black in the dim light. He wouldn’t touch her, but it felt unfair, unfair that he had hiked this far and built so much and she still lived an existence so separate from his _._

“Rachel.”

She woke each morning, worked and read and bathed and ate and lived, like she always had, with another.

“Ben.”

His brother looked like he was about to wet himself—and the first Miles could think was _good._ He wished them no harm, but their existence needed disruption. Two people didn’t end the world and then receive the luxury of retreating from it.

They both stood, staring blankly.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Ben jerked his head up and then down in an effort to nod.

“Please, come in. Miles.” He stumbled back a hasty step, but said as Miles crossed the threshold, “If you would leave your weapons outside. Please.”

Miles only caught his eye silently before continuing to move forward into their home, weapons remaining in their holsters. Rachel had disappeared catlike into the shadows, leaving he and Ben alone in the entry way.

“Charlie and Danny are asleep?” he asked casually. His brother was stiff and scared; Miles didn’t know how that would bode for what he came to ask.

“Yes.” The reply was short and despite the cooler night, Ben was sweating.

“It’s just me,” Miles assured without a glance or trace of sincerity.

He took a seat at the heavy table for himself, scanning the space. It looked very much like them, neat and homely but bland. He enjoyed sorting the objects he could see—which was from Rachel and which Ben. How did you explain to your brother that you missed his wife’s presence?  Her wide looping handwriting or worn shoes by the door, the creases in the leather noting miles she’d walked and days she lived without him.

“What do you want?”

Rachel was back, avoiding his name as she went straight to the point.

He wanted to play with them a bit more, and he paused as quips raced through his mind.  Their manner was distracting though, as Rachel focused slightly past him and Ben squirmed and shifted. His family looked tired, the years and the work slowly taking its toll. Miles hadn’t come to be cruel.

“I know that you know something about the power. Don’t bother acting surprised. I’m not stupid.” He turned on Ben, his blank face as good as guilty. “I’ve known since you called me. And I’m not here to punish you either, no matter your role in it. I just want it back on.”

Ben shifted again. His brother was horrible at hiding his anxiety.  “And?” Ben prompted. At least he didn’t deny it, Miles supposed.

“I’m here to formally ask you, Ben, to assist the Militia in bringing back power for everyone. You would come live with us at headquarters and Rachel would stay here with the kids. Under our supervision and with our resources, I think it is possible.”

He let his proposal sink in. Rachel’s gaze finally seemed to land on him.

“Or?” she asked quietly.

“Or?”

“She means what will you do to us if we don’t want to help you,” Ben supplied.

Miles managed to catch Rachel’s eyes for the more than a few seconds, and held her gaze for what seemed like years longer, but the hint of blue darted away with a scowl. She had no right to judge him, but here she was with beautiful eyes narrowed in the candlelight casting a warm flush across her skin, her slight frame sitting composed only an arm’s length away.

He saw what he could have, but he wouldn’t take it.

Not with an iron fist, not in a way that would leave his niece and nephew orphaned in the night. Ben would be removed safely if his plan worked, and Rachel alone. He’d visit her, assure her, make her understand that this wasn’t about power or their research, but about making a better world for her children.

He expected resistance, but if he could fold Chicago to Philadelphia into his metaphorical arms, he could have her back in his.

\--

Ben knew that his brother had built his request off two things: that Ben was the architect and Rachel the mother.

His brother stated it so simply, as if he wasn’t asking them to tear their family apart. Regardless of whether or not he could bring back that power—and Ben felt relief at the fact that it was almost undisputedly Rachel who could—he also felt no desire to. Even if Miles knew that Danny’s survival depended on the power, he would still expect Rachel to be the one to fall at his feet and beg to spare the life of her son.

Rachel’s voice cut short the silence after Miles’ pitch.

“Or?”

“Or?” Miles was either playing dumb or actually that slow. Ben preferred the later, and supplemented his wife’s response.

“She means what will you do to us if we don’t want to help you?”

Miles considered the response.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” His eyes never left Ben’s. “I would never hurt my own family—without good reason.”

Ben both wondered where and was afraid he knew exactly where General Matheson had come from.

“Can we have a few days to think about it?” She was reasonable, calm and bargaining. Ben watched Miles study her, hesitant to watch too long.

“Rachel, there shouldn’t be anything to think about.”

Her wide blue eyes began to glisten slightly; she had his attention now.

“Please. Just to think about it. To say goodbye. As a courtesy between—between family.”

Ben realized that he had been neatly edged out of the conversation. He also knew that Rachel was continuously developing her distraught mother act. He knew when she was playing someone, whether it was a stray trader selling supplies or her own brother-in-law.

Miles seemed to take the bait; at the very least he refused to look away from her knitted brow and tight lips as she pleaded.  Miles inhaled deeply and leaned forward, his eyes finally softening.

“I’ll give you two days,” he told her.

“Leave us in peace?” she asked.

“The closest stationed soldiers will be at the Williams farm. Ben _will_ report there on Wednesday.”

Rachel broke into a small smile of relief.

“Thank you.”

Rachel had a plan; he saw it in her politeness and confidence as she ushered Miles, the General, out of their home. He hoped it was part of a greater plan as she laid her hand gently against his sleeve thanking him further. His thoughts were only affirmed as soon as the door shut, for her face dropped suddenly and she stiffened.

Rachel was immediately at their kitchen shelves, large eyes flicking back and forth in silent counting. He remembered a time when they were each other’s sounding boards, when he knew what ideas floated around her head. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he could never know.

“Rachel?”

“I’m going to go to him tomorrow,” she stated with little inflection, “Maybe I can stop him, at least give you time to get away. And besides I want—”

“What? Miles?”

She didn’t respond and he recognized it as her passive aggressive brand of chastisement.

Ben wanted to say that he had always known, but the truth was he hadn’t. He’d missed any of the signs; in fact, he had been surprised by the revelation that Rachel even liked his brother. She’d told him when it was safe, when Miles had been presumed lost to the Blackout and there was little chance of either choosing their own pride over the survival of their children.

Rachel leaned forward into the cabinet, her bangs falling over her face.

Ben didn’t want to apologize; he was hurt and was allowed to be. He felt her silence force his hand, and he opened his mouth. She spoke over whatever he was going to say.

“I want to fix what we did, Ben.” And then, slightly quieter: “I want to be useful again.”

“Miles won’t care. He’ll only—” He paused, realizing that he had no idea what Miles’ reaction would be to Rachel instead of him. Would he hurt her? Welcome her back into his bed? Ben capped the surge of inadequacy and conflict that swelled at the last thought. He’d forgiven her because he had to, not because he had forgotten.

“I have friends in a town a few miles south that you and the children can hide in,” she continued, “They will do everything they can to protect you. Miles will be caught off guard by how early I come, and that it’s me, but I can’t assume that he won’t come back here searching for you. I managed to persuade him tonight and I could also—” Rachel hesitated and Ben suddenly did not want to know what other persuasive techniques she thought she could use on Miles.

Her hand wrapped around his and he grasped back.

“I’ll do this for us, Ben. For me. For the world. I can help Miles.”

Ben doubted her final statement, but the plan had sunk in.

It started to make sense; _she_ made sense. Their road had been rocky, but Ben almost felt pride at her pragmatism and sacrifice. He ignored the guilt that whispered that she may never see her children again. Her absence would be hard, but he could deal and adapt like he always had, and Charlie and Danny would be safe.

Yes, he concluded, it was the least horrible option for them.

As he watched her stack supplies in her bag, he again pushed away the image of her approaching his brother. He refused to imagine the fate that might await her when Miles turned to see the woman he loved instead of the brother he hated.

He focused on what he had. He had Charlie and Danny. He’d love Rachel while he could, and then let her go.

 


End file.
